


the most refined sort of stratagem

by Caracalliope



Category: Questionable Content (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Rope Bondage, Teasing, Trust, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caracalliope/pseuds/Caracalliope
Summary: “Are you planning to distract me with creative and lewd suggestions every time something upsetting happens to either of us?”“Depends. Is it workin’?”
Relationships: Bubbles/Faye Whitaker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	the most refined sort of stratagem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Satchelfoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satchelfoot/gifts).



In a civilian setting such as a bar, Bubbles prefers not to use violence to resolve conflicts, but the same is not necessarily true of her girlfriend.

The man bothering Faye seems very young - probably a good six years younger than Faye. That might be the reason he is still upright and unbruised.

"Aw, come on, just one dance. You look lonely." His voice can fairly be classified as grating. Bubbles is no expert on human subcultures but she would place this person in the category of sleazy tryhards.

The elation remaining from her victory over the dartboard has given way to a calm wariness. She approaches Faye without drawing attention.

"I said 'no' nicely once," Faye tells him. She does not sound upset, only mildly irate. "The only reason you are not in a world of pain right now is because I am a woman in love. Go forth, young creepoid, you have been spared, start your life anew."

"In love, huh. That's cool, if you roll that way," he says. Some humans do not have well-developed instincts of self-preservation. "But it doesn't say 'taken' anywhere I can see."

With all the grace she can muster, Bubbles steps closer, places a hand on Faye's shoulder. Perhaps she can be forgiven for the dramatic entrance. She loves the way Faye relaxes under her touch, a moment of quiet connection in spite of the bustle around them.

Bubbles hopes the young man will make his dishonorable retreat now. The bar that May selected for her 'body-warming party' seems to be one in which makeouts are within the norms of polite behavior. Bubbles prefers more privacy usually, but the occasion calls for an exception to be made.

The young man looks Bubbles up and down. "That's your date? Huh."

The emphasis is on 'huh' rather than on 'that', but the tone stings anyway. The tension returns to Faye's shoulders, and her hands curl into fists.

"Fine, I can see you have particular tastes," says the fool, sloshing his drink slightly. "Call me if she ever runs out of batteries."

Faye goes in for a punch. Bubbles does not try to stop her, nor does she offer to provide the young man with a more intense lesson. When he scrambles up from the floor, he looks up at her again, and she allows herself a small smile.

The man looks around, but nobody around them is showing surprise at the violence - it is not surprising that May enjoys this place. With a resentful murmur, he removes himself from the scene, and Faye slumps at his retreat. She leans back, leaning against Bubbles' chest.

"That was so much fun that we better head home," Faye says, "'Cause this is when I'd have gotten victory shots back in my bar-hopping days. May won't mind if we bail early, right?"

"She certainly will not. I will text her, though it is unlikely she will notice until after -"

"- heh heh, after she's done with her personal private body-warming party in the bathroom, yeah. Lessgo."

The mood between them feels peaceable, Faye humming something Bubbles has last heard in a ukulele context. Still, Bubbles has a responsibility to check.

"Are you all right?"

"Hm? Oh, sure. I dealt with twenty of those blowhards a day back in my rookie barista days. This one was unusually resistant to the death glare, but then maybe I'm rusty." She stretches and Bubbles closes her eyes for a moment. She will not stop to ogle the area where Faye's shirt rides up on her midriff, not on a busy street, but she has the image starkly recorded in her databases.

"You okay too?" Faye asks.

"I was not the one being ‘hit on'," Bubbles points out.

"Sure, but are you? No evasive maneuvers, Bubs."

"There is no reason whatsoever for me to be anything less than okay," Bubbles says, after a pause. "The unkind words were duly avenged." A moment later, she is moved to add, "I apologize for not being around when the initial contact happened."

"Aw! I appreciate the thought, but I can take care of myself."

"I know that well," Bubbles says. What is bothering her is difficult to pin down, and not important in the grand scheme of things, but she gives herself time to grab and develop the thought.

"This chassis was built for adverse conditions," she says at last, perhaps too formally. "I hope you believe me when I say that 'running out of batteries' is not on the table, and neither is intentional abandonment. Outside of apocalyptic conditions neither of us could foresee, I will be here for you whenever you wish it."

Faye stops, then stands in front of her. Bubbles had her hands hidden in deep pockets, but Faye draws them out, kisses her knuckles.

"I know that," Faye says, her eyes very bright under the streetlamps. "I trust you completely, by the way, and that's scary. I, I don't know if you know how scary it is, for someone like me to trust again."

They continue walking, hand-in-hand now. It is awkward considering the size difference, but the comfort is worth the slight stoop.

"In fact," Faye says a few minutes later, "I trust you so much that I'd let you tie me up like a bucking mustang and have your wicked way with me."

Bubbles inhales. "Are you planning to distract me with lewd and creative suggestions every time something mildly upsetting happens?"

"Depends. Is it workin'?"

Although Bubbles was not built for joy, she is growing proficient at it. "It is working, provided we remove the horse from the scenario. Please continue."

* * *

Faye is curled up comfortably on their reinforced armchair, leafing through a book on contemporary sculpture. Without looking up, she shifts over so Bubbles can sit beside her.

This might not be the best location for Bubbles to continue her research, but at times, she enjoys receiving some encouragement. She also enjoys challenging her girlfriend in a way that is still new to them both.

Less than a minute later, Faye takes notice of her handheld monitor. "Hey Bubs, whatcha watching?"

"An instructional video on the activity we have agreed not to discuss when we are at work. I prefer to process the material visually," Bubbles says. Using screens is not necessary when she wants to enjoy videos - and the audio is still processed internally - but it does make the experience more visceral. 

Faye tilts the screen toward herself, and then flashes her sideways grin. "Wait, we can't discuss it but watching a juicy silent porno about it is fine? Ooh, are we doing a thing where _I_ gotta be all chaste and work-appropriate but _you_ can get downright filthy and tease me with it - because um, I could be into that."

Bubbles offloads excess steam, so she can say with perfect equanimity, "We can discuss that option later. I should mention that we are no longer on the clock, as of three minutes ago." They must both remain in a fit state to greet potential latecomers, but the strict division between work and play is no longer in place. 

At Faye's inquiring gesture, Bubbles hands the screen over, and holds on to her very even tone. "The instructor, Lady Alexithymia Asimova, has an impressive portfolio of straightforward and detailed demonstrations of various rope-related erotic practices. As you can see, the submissive is fully clothed in this scene. It is not a porno, though ‘juicy' might be accurate by some definitions."

"Wow, that looks nice," Faye says. "Is that the kind of devil contraption you're planning to use to trap my booty?"

"We shall not immediately hang you from the ceiling, no. But it does look nice. It will look even nicer when it's you, bare and desperate for release, with the rope sinking into your curves and marking you up in ways I can later trace with my tongue."

Even with the offloaded steam, Bubbles cannot cancel her blush reaction - does not wish to hide it, either. Faye's cheeks are bright red, and her lips are irresistible.

Bubbles indulges, pausing the video. Faye is eager and cooperative - she always is - but there is an additional fervor to her kisses.

She trusts Bubbles to pull the brakes, which is where Bubbles finds the willpower to pull away.

"My apologies," she says, and quickly brushes Faye's mouth with her thumb. "We _are_ at work."

It is gratifying that Faye obeys with no more than a sigh. She shakes herself, rolls her shoulders. It is impossible to miss the way her legs are pressing together.

"Ugh," she says, "I mean, yeah. Work mode. Activating now." Bubbles will reward her _copiously_ when they get home. Faye pokes at the monitor and Bubbles obligingly begins playing the video again. "So do you think her ladyship knows Marten's mom?"

"It is possible. My understanding is that she keeps herself somewhat separate from the world of AI erotica - she has a niche of her own, built around the Asimov concept. But she often collaborates with human performers, as well as other AIs."

"Aw, the litnerd angle is kinda cute. I'll ask Marty to put out feelers, maybe we can get an introduction."

The thought of meeting Lady Asimova is a curiously heady one. "Do we need one?"

"Think about it, Bubbles, a lady with such a hot portfolio - she's got to need special repairs, right? And who better than a pair of discreet, professional, _creative_ metalworkers? If we offer upgrades too, it might be worth the ticket costs to fly in and get a makeover."

Bubbles smiles. "I see the logic in that."

"Yeah, I've been thinkin' about it. We're not exactly rolling in customers here, so maybe we need to, like you just said, make a niche of our own. Time we've got, and we ain't shy daisies either. We could get a real-specific group of clients online, ones who need custom work done and they're willing to travel for it."

It certainly could not harm their business - they have no reputation to speak of yet, and Bubbles could think of a few low-cost ways to advertise such a venture.

She kisses Faye's brow and says, "This is almost exactly the plot of a popular musical. According to the lore, we would need to go to Milan."

"I'll go wherever you take me, Miss Broadway Culturedpants," Faye says and crosses her legs. "Can we play the video from the beginning? I wanna see how she got him to bend like that."

* * *

Tonight, Bubbles has both strategy and quality equipment on her side. She has practiced the knots, refreshed her knowledge of human anatomy, and rehearsed every moment in the privacy of her mind.

Faye is kneeling on their bed, wearing only her green boxers. This is a pleasure Bubbles chooses to savor, though she knows that staring at her girlfriend for too long may elicit some nervousness. A modicum of nervousness is called for here, from Faye's side. Bubbles is existentially terrified but functionally calm.

When Bubbles sits next to her, Faye straightens her posture, lifts her head. Licks her lips quickly, perhaps without quite meaning to.

Bubbles rests a hand on one of her thighs. It is a gentle touch. For a millisecond, she had considering wearing her armor tonight, but it would have made it difficult to be as gentle as she wants to be, this first time.

"Are you ready to obey me, recruit?"

"Yeah. Yes, ma'am."

They've mostly abandoned the commanding officer roleplay, but the vestiges of it still please Bubbles to her core.

"Good. Now. Let us start with the words I most want to hear from you. The words I've been expecting for days now."

Faye sighs deeply, and the way her chest rises and falls must not be a distraction. "Dildo Hands is not a good name for our business."

"Continue."

"Dildo Hands is also not appropriate as a logo, tagline, or mission statement."

"Excellent work, thank you, recruit."

Opening the evening with a joke order has become routine for them - it eases them both into the situation, confirms that the game they are about to play is merely an extension of their usual ridiculousness. Back before she loved Faye, before she even liked her, Bubbles found it impossible to resist playing along with her.

But even that joking praise has an effect on Faye. She leans forward - a light challenge to authority - and brushes her bare breast against Bubbles' arm.

Bubbles gently repositions her. The faint whirr she's producing in the name of thermoregulation must be audible to Faye from this distance, but at least Bubbles keeps her voice steady.

"Please maintain the position, recruit. Arms in front."

Faye does not object, or speak at all, and she presses her arms together in the agreed-upon way. The rate of her breathing indicates no distress, but Bubbles also fully trusts her to sound the alarms if anything is amiss.

Both the safety and the eroticism of the scene depends on Bubbles taking her time with this part, and there is pleasure in the meticulous care she can show Faye. The bright red rope is striking against human skin. There is a stark difference between the tanned topside of Faye's arms and the lighter, softer skin on the underside. As the rope bounds her wrists together, loosely for now, Faye flexes her arms. Bubbles kisses her bare shoulder, appreciates the resulting ripple of muscle.

"How long," Faye breathes, "have you been planning to debauche me like this?"

"Since you brought it up," Bubbles says truthfully. "It was not quite on my metaphorical radar before." Her literal radar is not equipped to pick up on such things. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I - uh. It's been longer than that for me."

"How unexpected," Bubbles says, airily. She was going to ask later, when Faye is more thoroughly trapped beneath her and too aroused to deflect, but she will happily go with the flow now. "When did you first imagine it?"

"Well, um. Remember that time you let me give you a haircut _and_ we broke a kitchen chair? I can't be blamed for getting a kinky earworm out of the situation."

"True, you cannot be blamed for anything except the fate of that innocent chair and my dignity. But that was a long time before we got together."

"Yeah, it was right after you moved in. And you were still in defensive mode, so I couldn't believe you were letting me touch your hair."

Bubbles checks the existing knots, and continues with her progress. "You knew I liked you, as a friend." 

"I knew you'd, you know, tolerate me more than anyone else. Don't get me wrong, Bubs, that was _huge_ , and being around you was all I wanted to do, even if I was too much of a dumbass to know why. But the haircut - it's about trust, right? You trusted me not to fuck it up. Wanted to trust you back." 

Bubbles nods, and places the final knot into place, tightening the construction. She lightly presses her lips to Faye's temple, and then lifts those bound-together hands up for another kiss. The movement is awkward but it does not appear to cause embarrassment or discomfort.

"I always trusted in your competence," Bubbles says, runs a fingertip along the inside of Faye's arm, above the finely-fitted structure of rope. She summons memories of the occasion, filed away among other thrilling and shameful memories of a love that seemed hopeless. "But you are correct, I was unusually relaxed on that occasion. It was a good day."

Faye nods, and slumps backwards slightly. This time, Bubbles is happy to let her relax. With ease, she helps Faye position herself on the pillows prepared for the following part of the evening. Placing her on her back elicits some more strain in the arms fixed in front of her. Bubbles places her hand lightly on Faye's stomach - and that, of all things, is what elicits an embarrassed blush.

"Once we have a certain tactical certainty on our side," Bubbles says, "I would like to tie your arms behind your back. I would like free access to your front-facing configuration."

Faye's breasts fit perfectly into each of her palms. There could be an evening in their future dedicated merely to Faye's nipples, but tonight, Bubbles has a different plan.

She kisses Faye's abdomen, enjoys the somewhat clumsy way Faye tries to grab her hair. Recklessly, Bubbles kisses Faye's mound, over the fabric of the boxers. The constriction of movement becomes a matter of more urgency when Faye tries to touch herself and Bubbles lightly pushes her arms aside.

" _Please_ take the damn underpants off me," Faye says. Her manners are improving with each liaison! But Bubbles only presses her fingers against the mound, then moves on down to the soft skin of her thighs. Perhaps to compensate for her bound arms, Faye has spread her legs as widely as she can. She looks inviting and just on the edge of desperate.

Bubbles bends her head, kisses and then lightly bites Faye's thighs. Then, she mouths at the green fabric, wet with Faye's arousal.

"Please, Bubbles, please, just rip it all off, and I am going to be so good," Faye offers, breathless. Bubbles prefers to remove clothing in the more traditional way, and Faye cooperates as she pulls the boxers off of her.

"Before I eat you out," Bubbles says, "I need you to specify."

"Specify how good I'm going to be? I'm going to - to thank you so nicely when I come over your face." Faye is wiggling her underside around, arching up for contact. One day, she will be _fully_ still and Bubbles will delight in it.

"That is no more or less than what I expect from you," Bubbles points out. "But you told me to rip it all off. Did you mean the rope as well? Because we have safety scissors here, but I could also snap it off easily." She does not enjoy bragging about her strength, but she does enjoy the hitch in Faye's breathing.

"No, wanna keep it on," Faye says after some agonized consideration. "I can't play with my breasts like this, so you'll _really_ need to help me out later, but I just want to see what it's like when -"

She does not finish the thought. Bubbles runs a gentle hand over her thigh, an encouraging and anchoring gesture. An order.

"- when you make me come and all I want to do is hug you and get you off in thanks, and _then_ you start teasin' me again."

Bubbles moves her hand further up, then sinks her fingers inside in the sudden way Faye loves the most.

"Interesting," Bubbles remarks, as Faye tries to fuck herself against her fingers. She pushes Faye's hips back down with her free hand. "Your plan is in perfect accordance with mine. Yet another testament to the strength of our partnership."

Specifically, Bubbles is waiting for the moment when Faye is fucked-out with thighs wet from her own arousal. Then, she will test the reactions elicited by a free length of rope being dragged across sensitive skin.

But there are a few steps remaining in the plan, and those require her focus first. Before Faye feels compelled to beg her again, Bubbles starts fucking her girlfriend.


End file.
